


Falsettos Oneshots

by clickingkeyboards



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-09-30 16:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17227382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingkeyboards/pseuds/clickingkeyboards
Summary: Irregularly updated Falsettos oneshots, also published on Wattpad





	1. suspended // jason + marvin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason gets into a fight at school and Marvin has to pick him up - the reasons for the fight are unexpected.
> 
> word count: 785

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, the title has a + and not a / because it is not a ship, just Marvin and Jason being father and son

Marvin couldn't believe that he was spending his day off picking up his son from school at one in the afternoon because he had resorted to fisticuffs with another student. Usually, he would be the last choice of parent to pick up the boy, being as busy as he was, but Trina was out at a job interview, Mendel was at work all day, Whizzer had clients booked in from eight until four, Charlotte was swamped at the hospital, and Cordelia was catering at a wedding.  As a result of this, Marvin was at the bottom of Jason's school contact list and therefore the last one called. It brought a smile to his face to imagine the receptionists ringing through each parent before finally coming to him.

He smoothed down his new designer shirt and strode through the doors of the reception and instantly picked out his son, who was sitting miserably on a chair with a white bandage wrapped around his hand and blood drying on his face. The boy next to him looked worse for wear, twin black eyes and his arm strapped up in a sling.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up Jason Cohen? I'm his dad."

The timid woman behind the desk gave him a quizzical look that he had seen multiple times before. It was the look of 'how many parents does this kid have, anyway?' that he received from every single adult that knew the boy in passing.

When he heard the familiar voice, the head of brown curls shot up, already smiling broadly despite the bruises blooming across his face.

"Dad!" he yelled, making a break towards his father.

"Hey, Jason! Everyone else is busy today, are you okay?" He pointed to Jason's clearly injured face, but he couldn't be feeling too bad given the wide smile.

The secretary cleared her throat loudly. "I must remind you that Jason has received a week suspension for brutally assaulting another student," she pointed out. "Unprovoked."

"Unprovoked?!" Jason shrieked, jumping as if a fire was lit beneath him. "He was teasing me because I have two dads! He was bullying me, he said I'll gay and a sissy and gross just because my dads are gay!"

Marvin muttered, "He sounds like a right bastard and probably deserved it."

"And then the slimy git started joking about AIDS and saying my dads were going to die and burn in hell and... I got mad! Nobody can be mean to my family, so I did what Whizzer taught me and gave him what for!" Jason shouted, finally reaching the end of his little monologue and drawing in a breath. "Please don't be angry, Dad!"

There was a breath of silence, then the secretary spoke again. "Harmless playground jokes are not an excuse for physical assault! No matter your useless justification, you hit out first and you will be held accountable for your despicable actions."

Opening his mouth for what felt like the first time in hours, Marvin had to swallow a mixture of laughter and rage, starting, "Excuse me, ma'am, I have a query to make."

"Yes, sir?"

"Why is my son being punished for the discriminatory actions of another student? He was being verbally abused in a way that was definitely not 'playground talk'. Playground talk is, as I know it, children not letting others play with them and perhaps light teasing about clothing choices. Not verbal attacks on the lifestyle of another student. Jason was defending myself and my husband from hatred. If I experienced that abuse at work, I could readily take the offender the court and I could win. I don't expect you to widthdraw your suspension as you - quite frankly - seem like heartless people, but I hope you know that I'm going to be spending the next week treating Jason to as much as he would like for doing what was right, even if you're so blind that you see it as wrong." Taking a deep breath, Marvin placed a hand on Jason's back as he signed the boy out. "Good day."

As the doors swung shut behind them, Jason turned to his dad with wide eyes. "That was amazing! Oh my god, that was awesome! You should totally use your anger like that more often!"

Marvin simply took Jason into his arms and held him tightly. "Thank you for defending us, Jason. Thank you so much. It's one in a million good samaritans like you that stand out among everyone else. Now, do you want to go get ice cream to celebrate your glorious battle?"

"Do I get three scoops?" he asked cheekily, almost able to ignore the throbbing pain in his jaw.

"Kid, you can have four."


	2. no one tells me anything // homosexuals + jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trina and Mendel are keeping a surprise from Jason, which sparks an argument that isn't unusual in the Weisenbachfeld household these days. Furious, Jason makes the journey to Marvin and Whizzer's to vent his frustrations to his other parents.
> 
> Modern AU/nobody's dead AU
> 
> Contains a lot of references to various fandoms and a lot of prose about Jason.
> 
> word count: 1489

"Jason!" Mendel called out.

Jason lifted his head from his phone and hurriedly closed Wattpad. There were some things that he really didn't want Mendel to see. Plus, explaining why he was reading about a combination of hellish chants, abusive hunters and angry sex was an experience Jason didn't wish to repeat. "Yeah?"

"Your mom and I have a surprise for you!" he exclaimed, grinning.

"Really?!" Jason bounced to his feet. "What is it?"

"Don't tell him yet, honey!" Trina called from the kitchen.

Mendel's face contortted into a mask of annoyance. "You said we would tell him today, Trina!"

"I never said anything of the sort!" she replied indignantly.

Before one of their (extremely rare) arguments started, Jason exploded with anger. "Nobody tells me anything in this family!"

"Jason, honey, I-" Trina began, only to be cut off by Jason, red in the face. Clearly, his anger had been building and building, as there hadn't been a huge argument for almost three weeks.

"No one tells me anything in this fucking family!" Jason yelled. "You don't tell me you're pregnant, that you're getting a job, that we're moving house, that your family is coming over. You expect me to be as naive as I was when you and Dad were playing happy families! Dad and Whizzer tell me more than you do, they've never kept a secret from me."

"Jason!" Trina shouted, while Mendel looked resigned. As a psychiatrist, he knew that the best way to get someone to calm down was to let them shout as much as they needed until they had blown off enough steam, then to let them do whatever was necessary for them to calm down.

"Fuck off!" he shouted, slamming the door to his bedroom so hard the house shook, though he couldn't have cared less in that moment. He snatched up his school bag and the box his chess set came in, sweeping the set off the table and into the box, the stuffing it into his bag. Scribbling on a post-it note, he wrote 'gone to Dad's place, see you on Monday' and stuck it to the window. Almost as an afterthought, he picked up his phone and bluetooth headphones from his bed, unlocking the window and climbing out, carefully shutting it behind him.

It was almost routine at this point. Trina and Mendel seemed to be wonderfully skilled at finding new ways to piss him off every week, meaning that he would be at Marvin and Whizzer's... somewhat earlier than planned. However, it was rare that he took off on a Monday night, having barely spent a full twenty-four hours there.

Once his feet were on the ground, he hopped over the fence in their backyard, scurrying down the scenic lane that looked downright creepy in the dark and stopping the second he got to the street, swinging off his bag to pull out his baseball bat. While he couldn't hit a baseball if his life depended on it, he was more than capable of swinging it at the head of anybody who approached him in the dark. He turned on a familiar musical soundtrack and hummed along as he bounced the three roads to the bus stop.

"Dad and Whizzer wouldn't do that! They would tell me right away!" he said, talking to the picture of Spiderman on his phone case, as if Tom Holland was going to spring to life and agree with him. "I should just live at theirs all the time."

Taking out his phone, he sent a message in his group chat with his dad and Whizzer, which was mainly used for Jason to vent about his awful days during the week and get advice from them, for Marvin to send random encouraging messages, and for Whizzer to send his latest photos.

kingofchess: coming over early. mom and mendel pissed me off.

he's-the-whiz: damn, again?

kingofchess: i don't want to talk about it.

masteroffalsetto: We'll have some Disney movies and hot chocolate ready, how does that sound?

he's-the-whiz: and a pillow fort

masteroffalsetto **:** Of course.

kingofchess **:**  i love you guys

While waiting for the bus, Jason sang a little song he had come up with when he was younger. "Just look at me, I'm a world-class traveller each Friday night. Travel travel travel from her house to his house. First take the 104 with my computer. I'm just a little kid, not a commuter." Even though the second verse had long-since lost its relevance, he sang it anyway. "And each Sunday night, Mother comes to get me and I hear them fight. Everybody's yelling about the bar mitzvah. It's not a wrestling match, why are they sweating?  
It's not a funeral, what's so upsetting? It's a celebration where I get presents, but everybody's yelling and everybody's ruining it. It's a celebration, where I get richer, but everybody's yelling and everybody's ruining it. Everybody's ruining it. Why, oh, why?"

He shook his head fondly at the little ditty his younger-self had made up. Though he still sang his way through life at the age of fourteen, it was usually lyrics by Lin Manuel Miranda and Pasek and Paul, not lyrics of his own.

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

Before long, Jason had jumped off the third bus and ran the two streets to Marvin and Whizzer's cushy apartment in the centre of New York. He opened the door and was flooded with the smell of hot chocolate and the distinctive smell of chemicals from Whizzer's photography studio.

"Jason!" Marvin called out from the kitchen, and he felt his entire body relax and a smile spread onto his face. He did love his dads, being at their house was so... relaxing, like a permanent holiday. "Which hot chocolate do you want?"

"Salted caramel!" he yelled back, kicking off his shoes and dumping his bag on the ground, racing into the kitchen.

"You two have been making out," he stated upon seeing Marvin's mussed hair and swollen lips, his pyjamas crumpled.

"I'm not even going to deny that, Jase," he chuckled, taking Jason's hot chocolate out of the microwave. The hot chocolates were in three different mugs that Jason had painted two years ago and hated with a fiery passion, although Marvin and Whizzer loved them. Each mug had the person's name, and a stripe down the side (rainbows for Marvin and Whizzer, pink, purple and blue for Jason) and hearts painted on the handle.

Jason picked up his own and made his way into the living room, where Whizzer was carefully constructing the living room into a pillow fort.

"Oh my god, you guys are the actual best," he said gleefully, setting down his hot chocolate and rushing to fling himself at Whizzer. "Did you guys listen to Book of Mormon yet?"

"We did," Whizzer replied, wrapping arm around Marvin's waist when he sat down and pressing a kiss to his lips. "I love Elder Price, he's great."

"He's an absolute prick but I love him as well," Marvin agreed, practically melting under Whizzer's touch. "But my favourite is McKinley."

"Yeah, you must be familiar with turning it off," Jason needled, grinning and sipping at his hot chocolate. "What are we watching?"

"I was thinking Aladdin?" Marvin suggested, and Jason nodded eagerly.

"I love Aladdin!" he exclaimed, grinning. "What do you think Mom and Mendel we're keeping from me?"

"What?" Whizzer asked as he started the movie, pressing play.

"That's why I came here, they're keeping secrets," he said, frowning. "What do you think it could be?"

"I have no idea," Marvin replied honestly. He and Whizzer were busy planning to surprise Jason with something, so this was news to them.

Thinking of the Book of Mormon tickets sitting in an envelope on a shelf in their wardrobe, Whizzer and Marvin shared a look.

"I have no idea either," Whizzer added, settling back against the cushions and sipping his hot chocolate. "So, what's on the agenda for tonight?"

"Well, my school has a teacher-training day tomorrow, so..." Jason began, only to be cut off by Marvin.

"Say up until two in the morning watching movies, then wake up late tomorrow and have a day out?" he suggested. "I've got weeks worth of sick days stocked up, I can use one tomorrow."

"Ice skating," Whizzer added, smiling. "I only have one client tomorrow."

"I love you guys so unbelievably much," Jason said, humming along to the opening strains of the music. He knew that the surprise was probably nothing, and that he would feel bad about shouting the next day, and be forced to apologise the day after. But, in that moment he couldn't find it in himself to care. Sitting on a pile of blankets, watching Aladdin and hearing his fathers make offhanded comments in the background, he wondered how he ever thought that family meant anything other than this.


	3. chest pains // homosexuals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am projecting onto Whizzer Brown, as my IRL friends will know.
> 
> Morden AU. I understand how important Whizzer's death is to the canon work but in this oneshot it was a 'health scare' that makes Marvin wary of anything to do with Whizzer's health.
> 
> Pretend America has free healthcare.
> 
> word count: 686 because I couldn't describe my chest pain for any longer

"Whiz!" Marvin called out cheerfully, hanging up his suit jacket on their coat rack and kicking off his polished shoes. "I'm home, baby!"

"Marv?" his lover called out, and Marvin felt panic rise in his chest. To anybody else, the man would sound perfectly normal. However, Marvin had memorised every nuance and inflection of Whizzer's voice. He sounded strained and in pain, how he had sounded during those agonising months he had spent in the hospital during his health scare.

"Whiz, baby? Where are you?" he asked, setting down his briefcase and glancing about frantically.

A pained cry drifted from the bedroom and Marvin rushed down the hallway to see what was wrong. Whizzer was curled up on their bed, his eyes screwed shut and his hands pressed to his chest, below his left collarbone. Marvin crawled onto the bed beside him. "Hey, Whiz," he soothed, running a hand through Whizzer's hair. "What's wrong, baby?"

"It hurts, Marvin," Whizzer whimpered, curling in on himself. "My chest. It's just... pressure. So much pressure. Like a band around my chest. Make it stop, Marv, please!"

Tears dripped from his eyes and onto Marvin's immaculate trousers. Marvin leaned down to press a kiss to Whizzer's hairline. "What do you want to do, Whiz? Should I get Charlotte?"

He shook his head frantically, sending his perfect hair falling down over his eyes. "Hospital," he mumbled.

"Okay, okay," Marvin repeated like a mantra. This couldn't be like last time, Whizzer couldn't be sick again. "It's okay, you're okay, we're okay."

He helped Whizzer stand and - slowly but surely - make their way to the car. Whizzer slumped in the passenger seat and Marvin clasped his hand. "Hey there," he said softly, trying to calm his boyfriend's quickening breaths. "When did this start?"

He shrugged. "Pressure was building and building and building and it hurt so much and then it released through my chest in this warm flush but the pain was still there and then it built and built and built again and it hasn't released yet and it hurts so much!"

As Whizzer spoke, he clutched at his chest again, then let out a gasp. "Oh- it's- it's gone again. Released. Everything's warm and tingling. I don't like it."

Before the pressure could build again, Marvin said, "Try and get some rest, Whiz, okay?"

"Mm," Whizzer agreed sleepily, head slumping against the window as his eyes slipped shut.  
  
≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫  
  
Marvin walked up to the desk in the ER, his arm wrapped tightly around Whizzer. "Name?"

"Micah Brown," he said, grimacing.

"Preferred name?"

"Whizzer."

As Whizzer listed off the issues, Marvin glanced around the waiting room. From little boys with bruises and bleeding knees, to a duo of grumpy Scout leaders sitting beside a young Scout girl with blood covering her minion flip-flops.

Eventually, Whizzer was called in as they ran tests for what seemed like hours. Marvin could only anxiously chew his nails and bounce his leg as the amount of people dwindled and his worries grew.  
  
≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫  
  
"The results were inconclusive," the doctor informed a distressed Marvin, who sighed upon hearing the news. Comfortingly, the young doctor squeezed his shoulder. "He's not cancerous, and it's nothing to do with his lungs or his heart. Your boyfriend isn't in immediate danger, Mister Cohen. He has been put under to ease the pain, alright? We want to keep him for a few days if that's alright with you."

Marvin nodded. "Whizzer isn't dying?"

She chuckled softly. "He's got a long life ahead of him, I'm sure."

"Thank you."

The doctor bowed her head and hurried down the corridor. Marvin let himself into the hospital room. This was much less dreary than the last, bright murals painted across the walls and yellow roses in a vase on the bedside. Whizzer's fave was peaceful, a small smile on his lips as he slept. Marvin sat down in the chair at his side and pressed a kiss to the lips of the sleeping man. "Hopefully, this is a short stay," he muttered to himself, fumbling for his phone to call his son's school about the arrangements.


	4. meeting whizzer brown // homosexuals + jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU: Marvin introduces Jason (9 y.o.) to his new boyfriend, Whizzer Brown. Things go better than expected. Includes transgender Whizzer.
> 
> word count: 4255

As they rushed through the busy streets of New York, Marvin's hand in Jason's so he wouldn't be swept away into the throes of the crown, nothing was clear except white king that Jason held in his hand so tightly it marked his skin. As a nine-year-old boy with a heart of gold and a head of daydreams, Jason would rather be anywhere than where he was: en route to meet his father's new boyfriend. Despite the fact he was dreading the long weekend that stretched out ahead of them, he couldn't help but notice how his father glowed when he talked about this new boy. He wasn't dull and subdued, as the others forced him to be, laughing and talking and asking Jason about his day.

"Dad? There's so many people," Jason shouted over the noise of the city, tucking himself closer to his father's leg.

"Wanna ride on my shoulders, kiddo?" he questioned, and Jason nodded eagerly, laughing as he was swung onto his father's shoulders.

"I'm so tall!" he yelled, waving his arms frantically before clutching at his father's hoodie to keep himself steady.

"Hopefully you'll never actually be this tall," he laughed, craning his neck to see his son, laughing and looking as if he was on top of the world. For once in his life, Jason felt so  _cool_.

"Is he nice, Dad?" Jason asked, relaxing on his father's shoulders and stooping down to lean his chin on top of his dad's head. "Will he like me?"

"He's fantastic, Jase, there's no better man in New York!" Marvin enthused, and Jason giggled at his father's enthusiasm. "He's excited to meet you, he's been fretting about making a good impression on you all week."

Not caring if one of his classmates saw him and though he was a loser for actually liking his dad, Jason straightened up to admire the sights - simple things that an everyday commuter would find mundane, but those same simple things were marvellous to Jason. There were no seven wonders of the world in Jason's eyes, there were seven million.

**≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫**  

"Whiz?" Marvin called out in a cheerful sing-song voice as he threw open the door to his apartment, which looked considerably cleaner than the last time Jason had visited. He supposed he was going to have to get used to it, now he would be spending weekends there.

"Marv! You're home!" a youthful voice cried, and a young man with travel-distressed clothes raced from the bedroom to wrap the older man in a tight hug.

Mumbling in his shoulder, Marvin clutched onto the back of the other man's shirt as they swayed slightly from side to side. "A week is too long," he stated when they broke apart, with an air of finality. "I'll come with you next time."

After pressing a chaste, hungry kiss to Marvin's lips, the man turned towards the door, smiling kindly at Jason, who hunched his shoulders and looked away, expecting the usual distasteful comment about how children were annoying or how a relationship with a father wasn't what they were looking for. "Hey! Jason, right? It's great to finally meet you, your father bangs on about you like you wouldn't believe!"

Giggling at the fact this man actually wanted to speak to him, Jason pulled his shirt down from where it had been covering his mouth and nose. "He does? I hope he says good things!"

"Only the best, I swear," the man assured him with a smile, holding out a hand. "I'm Whizzer Brown, pleasure to meet you."

Embarrassed, Jason tucked his hands into his pockets. "I don't do handshakes or touching people, 'm sorry."

"Oh no, it's quite alright," Whizzer assured him, straightening up. "Is it okay if I take your bag?"

Jason nodded, holding it out. "I like your name. It's strange, but it's cool."

"Thank you! Is there anything in here you want before I take it upstairs?"

Jason mumbled something.

"What was that, kiddo?" Whizzer asked.

"My chess set," he replied, louder.

"Oh you play chess?" Whizzer asked rhetorically, though he of course already knew this. "Your dad's brilliant at it, he's been crushing me in games for weeks."

"Ooh, do you play?" Jason asked, hugging the box to his chest.

Smiling, Whizzer gathered up Jason's bag. "A little. Your dad's a rubbish teacher."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

Marvin and Whizzer both laughed, and Jason had to laugh along too. As Whizzer walked off with Jason's bag, Marvin lead him into the sitting room.

"He seems nice," Jason finally said. "He likes me."

Instead of rolling his eyes, Marvin  _glowed_. "I knew you'd like him. He's lovely. He plays baseball, too."

"He does?" Jason gasped, lighting up like it was Christmas. "That is  _so_  cool!"

"Isn't it, though?" Marvin agreed, much to Jason's surprise. "I actually... don't hate baseball now."

Jason gasped dramatically and rolled off the couch.

Whizzer entered the room and chuckled at the scene before him: Jason motionless on the ground and Marvin helpless with laughter.

"I'm dating a literal child," he commented to thin air, setting down Jason's chess set on the coffee table.

"How was the photoshoot?" Marvin asked, pulling Whizzer down to sit beside him: the younger man laughed and curled into him.

"You're a model?" Jason asked, distaste in his voice as he picked himself up and sat on Marvin's other side. "Why would you want to be a model?"

"No, I'm not a model, though Marvin here says I could be one." He laughed and rolled his eyes. "I'm a photographer. I'm the one that has to deal with the insufferable divas on a daily basis."

"That must suck."

"Hey, we get some good photos out of it," he smiled, pointing about the room. "At least, I think so."

"It's better than the dick paintings Dad got to annoy Mom," he replied. "Mendel almost fainted."

"Did he?" Whizzer asked, chuckling. "That's a bit extreme!"

"Oh, yeah! It was hilarious! And Mom nearly had an aneurysm."

Marvin groaned. "Must you remind me of all my mistakes, kiddo?"

"Of course! It's what I'm here for!" Jason chuckled.

"And me too," Whizzer added. "I have to tell you about the time your father broke the cabinet because he straightened up and whacked his head up on it."

"Wait, that's how it broke?!" Jason exclaimed, bursting into giggles. "Also, Dad straightened up? How comes he's dating you then?"

Whizzer and Marvin both snorted. "He gets that sense of humor from you," Whizzer commented, nudging Marvin. "What time is it?"

"Oh, I can read the clock!" Jason exclaimed, bouncing up to look at the artsy analogue clock hanging up on the wall. "It is... five thirty!"

"I'll go and see if we have any food that isn't terribly out of date," Marvin announced, standing from the couch and leaving the room.

Jason shifted awkwardly, toying with his sleeves and glancing down at his new phone, which sat on the coffee table. Whizzer was about to say something when a loud text alert started both of them from their thoughts.

"Oh, who's that from?" Whizzer said in a curious tone, though he didn't lean over to see what it was like Jason thought he would. This was new, someone who actually respected his personal space?

"Uh... Heather Levin," he replied quietly, wishing his skin wasn't quite so pale.

His voice teasing, Whizzer asked, "Ooh, who's  _that_?"

"She's a girl in my class. She asked for my phone number today so she could text me. I don't know what to say to her now," he mumbled awkwardly.  _Oh god, he's going to think it's stupid that I'm worrying and he'll tell me to get over myself like the others did and..._

"Oh my goodness, I was exactly the same when I started messaging your dad!" he said, a grin stretching across his face and his hair falling down across his forehead a little. "Do you mind telling me what it said so I can try and help?"

"She just said 'Hey, Jason! Have you done the history homework? If you haven't we could work on it tomorrow at lunch together!' and I don't know what to say," he mumbled lamely, wishing he could sink into the sofa cushions.

"Oh, that's good! Have you done the homework?" he asked, picking up his own phone and flipping it over and over in his hand.

"Uh, no... I'm not very good at history and Heather is really good at it so... I think I'll embarrass myself," he explained, his voice very serious. Whizzer found himself getting absorbed in Jason's dilemma, treating it as seriously as he would something of Marvin's.

Whizzer knew he was going to be of no help in that regard, having failed history at school. "If I were you, I would say yes and then ask her about a particular part of a lesson you know she found interesting."

Jason cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

Trying to find an analogy, he said, "If I was texting Marvin, I wouldn't ask him about his lunch break if I knew he'd had an awful one, and he wouldn't ask about my photoshoots if he knew I'd had an annoying client that day. You want to be asked about things you enjoy so you can talk about them, right? If you ask about something she doesn't like, you hit a block in the conversation and it won't progress any further."

Brightening, he beamed and said, "Okay!"

Holding the phone, which looked huge in his tiny hands, he painstakingly typed out a text message while Whizzer scrolled through Instagram. "Are you aware that your dad has a degree in history? Perhaps he could help you!"

"He  _does_?" Jason asked, setting down his phone. "Wow, I never knew!"

"Neither did I until he ranted at me about the origins of chess for an hour," Whizzer chuckled, and Jason scowled.

"You're not making fun of my dad, are you?"

Whizzer shook his head, sending hair swishing across his forehead. "Of course not! His rants are awfully interesting, I don't know where I'd be without his rambling."

Satisfied, he nodded. "Okay. That's good!"

Marvin burst back into the room. "Well, all the food is out of date! Who's up for going to the fair and then to a fancy restaurant?"

"Me!" Jason squealed, jumping up and rushing to his room.

Whizzer frowned. "What's he doing?"

"Putting on his fancy clothes," Marvin replied, rolling his eyes. "He seems to like you, you know."

"I'm glad he does, he's an awfully sweet kid," Whizzer replied.

**≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫**  

"Hang on, I want my jacket!" Jason burst out, rushing into the laundry room to sort through the piles of clothes Marvin had folded. Chuckling at the small boy's antics, Marvin and Whizzer held each other close and shared a chaste kiss, not realising anything was wrong until Jason called back to them, "What's this? It's like a girl's bra but not!"

As Whizzer was curled up in his arms, Marvin felt him tense up all over as the reality of the situation washed over them both. "I'll... I'll tell him."

"Want me with you, baby?" Marvin whispered, squeezing his hand and receiving a nod in response.

When they walked through the doorway, they saw that Jason had kicked himself up on the washing machine, and was toying with one of Whizzer's binders in confusion. "Oh, hi. What is this? It's weird, it's like what my mother wears but... not. Like, it's flat. But it's a chest thing."

Taking a breath, Whizzer said, "Do you know what being transgender is, Jason?"

He shrugged, content with the non-verbal respond until his father gestured for him to continue. "I see it on posters and I heard Dad say it but I don't know what it is."

Marvin leaned over and muttered, "Jason's a clever kid, but you might want to really stress the emotional and mental parts of it."

Twiddling his thumbs, Whizzer decide on giving a rather black-and-white definition to the ten-year-old. "Well, being transgender is when a... a mistake happens and somebody is born inside the wrong body. Take me for example, I was born inside a 'girl's' body with a 'girl's' name. It may take these people some time to figure out why they feel different, but then they realise it's because they want to be the opposite gender. When people want to change genders, they often change their names and change things about them. For example, I picked the name Whizzer for myself because I don't like the name my parents gave me, and I cut off my long hair to make me feel like a boy. Some people get surgery to change their bodies and what's between their legs, but lots of people can't afford it or don't want to go that far, but that doesn't make them any less of the gender they want to be."

Nodding slowly, Jason said, "Oh, that makes sense. And it's transgender because you are transitioning to another gender? Oh, okay! So, what's this thing I have here?"

Whizzer smiled brightly at the boy's understanding, and Marcin circled an arm around Whizzer's waist and grinned at him, squeezing his hip. "That thing is called a binder, Jason. I use it to make my chest seem flat, just like yours and your dad's. Until I can get an operation, which will hopefully be soon, I'll a binder so I don't feel like a girl."

Jason didn't speak, instead clumsily folding the binder into four, just like he had seen his dad do with all the other clothes. Proudly, he handed it to Whizzer. "Here you go. Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes, I'm not allowed to have one on for more than eight hours, otherwise it hurts my rib cage," Whizzer explained, taking it and setting it back down on the washing machine.

"Oh, that sucks. Does it make you feel bad if you feel like you look like a girl?" Jason asked curiously.

"Yes, it can. But luckily I have your dad here to reassure me that it's alright," he replied, grinning at Marvin.

"And now me!" Jason added, sticking his tongue out at Whizzer.

Whizzer smiled fondly. "Of course. And you."

**≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫**  

Marvin tucked an arm around Whizzer's waist as Jason bounded ahead of them, filling in Marvin (and now Whizzer) on everything that happened at school that week, skipping back in the story to explain things to Whizzer.

"Thomas Joyce tried to ask out Dot Nardoni and she turned him down in front of the whole class! Dot and James are people in my class, Whizzer. Thomas is really mean and plays soccer and he's - like - super popular, and Dot is a gymnast and all the boys fancy her. I'm mostly friends with the girls in my class, since I started making friends."

Chuckling and leaning over to kiss Marvin on the forehead, Whizzer asked, "Oh, really? What are their names? I was friends with all the girls when I was at school, the boys didn't like the fact I played baseball, not soccer."

"Can't imagine why, baseball is heaps better than soccer," Jason replied with scorn in his voice. Lighting up at the fact Whizzer had asked him a question, he started listing off his friends in a sing-song voice. "Well, there's Dot Nardoni, Tiffany Axelrod, Zoe Feinstein, Angelina Dellibovi, Bunny Doyne, Mo Cristofaro, Ellie Mazie Rosenthal, and  _Heather Levin_." He emphasised the final name as if it was one of great importance.

Lips brushing against Whizzer's hair, Marvin leaned up to whisper, "Pay attention to that name, Heather Levin comes up a lot."

Nodding in understanding, Whizzer smiled and said, "Ahh, okay." Speaking up so Jason would hear, he teasingly taunted, "You make  _Heather Levin_  sound incredibly important, what's with that?"

"Oh, she is!" Jason grinned, lighting up. "She's ever so funny and bookish and she's really good at maths and history and chess. She has blue circle glasses and frizzy brown hair and lots of freckles and spots and she's  _so pretty_."

Whizzer laughed. "She sounds lovely, Jason. Do you think anybody you know will be here?"

"Yeah! Loads of my classmates! Which means I get to go 'look, I have two dads for the price of one!' and make all of them jealous!"

Alarmed, Whizzer stopped walking, only to be tugged forward by Marvin, who was smiling fondly at his lover. "Just take it in, Whiz."

"I can see the fair!" Jason cheered, taking off across the grass and looking both ways before running across the street and across the field to the gates.

"He's a great kid," Whizzer commented, pulling Marvin close to him. "He takes after his father."

"Sap," Marvin teased, before letting his lover go to chase after Jason.

**≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫**  

True to Jason's word, they bumped into one of his classmates while waiting in line to buy tickets.

"Mo Cristofaro!" Jason trilled in a sing-song voice.

"Jason Cohen!" she replied in a similar tone, and Whizzer gathered that it seemed to be the customary way they greeted each other.

She poked Jason's cheek and said, "I heard that Heather's coming tonight. You should go on the ferris wheel and kiss at the top!"

Jason flushed bright red and hid his face. "Mo!" he yelped, giggling. "I'll leave the kissing to my parents, thanks!"

"Your parents? Aren't you with your dad this weekend?" she asked.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Yep! Gosh, you weren't listening to me when I was speaking at lunch, were you?"

"My sandwiches were more interesting than you, Jason!" she retorted, and the two of them burst into giggles.

"Anyway, if you weren't listening then, you can listen now! Meet Whizzer, my dad's boyfriend and resident stylish person!" he said, tugging her over by the sleeve. "And Whizzer, meet Mo Cristofaro, the best baseball-player in my class!"

Whizzer stuck out a hand. "Great to meet a fellow baseball enthusiast!" he said, shaking her hand.

Marvin rolled his eyes. "No need to push how much my hatred of baseball personally offends you, Whiz! I just don't  _get_  the sport."

"You could at least pretend to!" he retorted.

Whizzer and Mo Cristofaro traded baseball tips for several minutes while Marvin and Jason watched like they were trying to decipher another language. "Do you understand this, Dad?" Jason whispered.

"Not a word," Marvin replied.

When it came to carnival games, Marvin and Whizzer were as awful as each other, and Jason wasn't afraid to tell them that.

"Oh my god, Whizzer, you suck at this!" Jason exclaimed as he finally knocked down the last coconut. "And Dad! Come on, you can totally do better!"

Mervin grumbled something as he knocked down the last coconut. "There! I did it!"

Trina swore that she was just trying to have a nice carnival date with her husband. But, as life didn't seem to much like making things easy for her, she noticed her ex-husband, her son, and who she assumed was Marvin's new boyfriend playing carnival games and eating copious amounts of candyfloss.

"Mendel, darling," she hissed, tugging his arm. "Marvin and his...  _boy_ are here."

"We should go and say hello," he encouraged, though he made no move to get closer to them.

"How about no?" Trina suggested, laughter lacing her voice as she looked away. However, despite her desperately trying to hide herself, Jason noticed her and squealed, racing over.

"Mom!" he yelled, hugging her tightly. "Whizzer got me cotton candy!"

"Who got you cotton candy?" Mendel asked as Jason turned to hug him.

"Whizzer! Dad's boyfriend! He's real nice, you know. He's a photographer, he says he'll take some photos of me and Dad playing chess that I can keep for myself. And he's gonna let me help him with chess too, Dad says he sucks at it. Oh, and him and Dad are super cute together and they love each other a lot! Mom, Mendel, are you listening to me?" Jason asked, finally reaching the end of his mini-monologue and staring up at the two adults with wide eyes. Mendel was the first to snap out of his shock.

"He sounds awesome, Jason! I look forward to meeting him sometime. Can I have some cotton candy?" he asked, squatting down to Jason's level.

In response, Jason shoved a bunch of blue, fluffy sugar into Mendel's mouth with one finger.

"Where the hell is he?" Whizzer muttered, glancing around the stalls. He and Marvin had split up to look for Jason after the boy drifted off without them noticing. Before he could get too absorbed in his thoughts, he noticed Jason speaking to two adults whom with Whizzer wasn't familiar.

He was about to rush over and shout when the Marvin inside his head spoke up.  _Ah ah, lawyers don't go to court before they know both sides of the story, do they? Approach them calmly and ask what's going on._

He growled, knowing the Marvin inside his head was right. Mustering up some courage, he approached the group and said, "Jason?"

The boy started and turned around. "Whizzer!" he said, brightening.

"Your father's worried sick! You gave him quite the scare wandering off like that!" he explained, trying to sound light-hearted. He didn't want to scare the boy.

"Oops!" he replied, not sounding even slightly apologetic. "Whizzer, this is my mom and Mendel. He's dad's old psychiatrist and my step-dad."

"That sounds like it would make a great musical," Whizzer commented, and Mendel barked out a laugh.

Trina smiled warmly. "Pleasure to meet you. Say hello to Marv for me, you seem good for him."

Biting back a retort, he said, "Oh, of course. Sorry to steal Jason away but Marv's going to have an aneurysm."

Jason burst out giggling. "Bye Mom, bye Mendel. I'll see you on Monday!"

**≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫**  

Whizzer smiled to himself as he whisked the small boy across the fairground to a panicking Marvin. "Dad!" Jason squealed, rushing to his Marvin.

"You monkey!" Marvin exclaimed, tickling Jason until he squealed.

Whizzer laughed and pointed to the ferris wheel. "Hey, Marv? Have you ever kissed someone at the top of the wheel?"

Marv nodded. "When Trina and I were in high school, only because everyone else was doing it."

Jason giggled. "Eww, that's gross!"

Shrugging, Marvin pulled Whizzer over by the wrist, Jason laughing and running behind.

The three of them waited in line, though Jason was going to stand at the bottom and watch them go up. Marvin and Whizzer were quietly talking until Jason sharply tugged on Marvin's shirt.

Marvin turned his head to see Jason talking to a girl with frizzy brown hair wearing a floral-printed dress. "Who are you here with, Heather?" Jason asked.

"My older sister, but  _she_  gave me twenty bucks and ran off with her boyfriend," she replied, grinning. "So I decided to go on the ferris wheel!"

"I'm going on too," Jason replied, then kicked himself for his stupidity. Of course he was! Why else would he be in line?

"With who?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I was going to wait at the bottom."

"You can go on with me!" Heather suggested, bouncing.

Jason nodded slowly. "Okay. I'd like that."

**≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫**  

After a dinner at an expensive restaurant - they nearly got kicked out for laughing too loud - they took the long walk home in the dark, Marvin keeping both Whizzer and Jason unnecessarily close out of fear. When they got inside, Jason ran to his room to get changed into his pyjamas and go to sleep.

**≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫≪** **°** ❈ **°** **≫**  

A few hours later, Jason woke up in the dark. He padded across the soft carpet with his nightlight to go to the kitchen when he heard soft singing. Curious, Jason peered into the bedroom, wondering where the soft singing was emanating from. Marvin and Whizzer were curled up together in bed, the latter exhausted from work and asleep on his lover's chest. As he carded a hand through Whizzer's hair, Marvin sang quietly, careful not to wake his lover.

"I like this one, Dad," he whispered from the door, and Marvin barely started, simply gesturing to the bed, inviting Jason to sit down.

Jason allowed himself to breathe, relishing in the moment and noticing how content Marvin was: his voice fluttered about the otherwise silent room, creating an almost indescribably happy atmosphere. Cuddled up against his father's side, Jason whispered, "I like Whizzer. He's kind to me. He asks me about school, just like you do, and he let me help him with chess. Please keep him, Dad, I really really like him. Please, I..."

Gently, Marvin quieted his son, stopping his own singing. "Shhh, Jase. I promise Whizzer isn't going anywhere. I love him. I really do. He's brilliant. He's kind, he's lovely and... well, he's the reason I love what love is. Trust me, he has me for as long as he wants me, because I'll never grow tired of him."

Smiling wearily, Jason rubbed his eyes and looked up at his father. "You really love him, huh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I do," Marvin agreed. "Do you want to sleep in your room tonight?"

Jason nodded. "Yeah. I have stuffed animals to cuddle... and pretty girls to think about."

Chuckling at his son's bashful look, he chucked the small boy under the chin. "You dream about pretty girls and I'll dream about pretty boys, yeah?"

Nodding happily, Jason whispered. "Yeah. I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Jason."


	5. i don't think he's alright // marvin + jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whizzer ain't alive in this one, I hate to tell you.
> 
> This is about Marvin coping after Whizzer's death, and Jason noticing that his dad is getting sick too.
> 
> word count: 1122

Jason wanted to be sick. It was the first weekend he was spending with his dad and Whizzer - no, just his father - after his Bar Mitzvah. The entire apartment was stained with Whizzer's memory: his coat was neatly hung up by the door, and his loafers were beside Jason's trainers and Marvin's shoes. His books sat on the coffee table, halfway through being reread, and a blanket was crumpled on the floor from where he had tossed it. His medication sat in the bathroom cabinet, his photos were hung on the walls. A year ago, Jason couldn't have imagined anything of Whizzer's being in the apartment: now, he couldn't imagine them gone.

It was five in the evening, and Marvin was ordering Chinese takeout.

"What do you want?" he asked, dialing the number for the takeout place."

"Uh, my usual," Jason said, elaborating when his dad didn't respond, staring at a picture over Jason's shoulder. "You know, chicken tikka masala and rice?"

Marvin shook himself from his daydream. "Okay, kid."

"Are you sure you're alright, Dad?" Jason asked hesitantly.

"I'm alright, Jason," he replied tiredly.

_I don't think he's alright._

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

"What would Whizzer order?" he asked when they sat down with their dinner, after heating it in the microwave. "I can't remember."

"Same as you," Marvin said, sounding slightly choked up. "He couldn't handle anything more spicy."

Whizzer's photography was spread out across the kitchen table. Jason cleared a space to put his plate.

He looked up, and his dad had a picture in his hand, the other hand hurriedly wiping his eyes.

"Are you sure you're alright, Dad?" he said again.

"I'm alright, Jason."

_I don't think he's alright._

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

Charlotte and Cordelia had descended upon the house with burnt cupcakes and smiles, forcing happiness into the gloomy household. They ate around the table, Marvin and Charlotte politely chewing their cupcakes and giving Cordelia a thumbs up. Jason wasn't nearly as kind.

"These are really gross, Delia, there's way too much egg," he informed her bluntly.

She laughed. "Thanks, Jason, I'll keep that in mind."

Charlotte had picked up a photo. It was of Marvin and Whizzer in Central Park, one taken by Jason with a slight blur around everything but the subjects of the picture. "I love this, Jason! When did you take this?"

He shrugged. "A few months before..." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "You know."

Charlotte nodded. "This is lovely! How did you get that effect?"

"It was an..." Jason trailed off as he noticed his father stand abruptly from the table and rushed to the bathroom, tears streaming down his face. "Accident."

He rushed after his dad, banging on the door. "Are you sure you're alright, Dad?"

"I'm alright, Jason," he said through tears.

_I don't think he's alright._

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫  
  
"Dad, can you read to me?" Jason asked, walking into his father's room in his pyjamas. It was barely even seven, Jason would never sleep at this hour, but his father kept going to sleep far too early and Jason wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

"Sure, which book?" he asked.  
Jason looked wildly around the room until he spotted Matilda resting on the bedside table. "That one!"

"Whizzer was reading this," Marvin said offhandedly, and Jason instantly regretted his decision.

"Can we start where he left off?" Jason asked. "Did he ever finish it?"

Marvin shook his head. "He's read it before, though. He's up to... the bit with the hair dye?"

Jason grinned. "I love that part! Let's read, come on!"

Eagerly, his sat on his father's lap as if he was five years old again, listening to his dad read all about books and tricks and everything he had wished he could do to his parents while they were divorcing.

Towards the end of the book, Jason felt his shoulder getting damp, and turned around to see tears rolling down Marvin's cheeks as he read. "Are you sure you're alright, Dad?"

"I'm alright, Jason," he assured him, brushing Jason's curls back from his forehead.

_I don't think he's alright._

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

Jason had been kissed goodnight and tucked into bed, but something felt off. Eventually, he gave up on trying to sleep and got out of bed, tucking his favourite blanket around his shoulders and creeping into his dad's room.

Pulling his gangly legs to his chest, Jason wrapped the blanket around himself and sat up against the headboard, looking down at his sleeping dad with concern.

His dad had been so tired recently, passing out early in the evening, sometimes before eating three full meals. After being told by several people that it was the horrific bout of the flu Marvin had been subjected too shortly after he got back together with Whizzer coming back to haunt him, Jason stopped listening. There had to be something wrong.

With a weary eye, Jason wondered if his father had always been so skinny. Hadn't he filled out that shirt before? Jason swore he hadn't been able to see the shape of his dad's ribs under the fabric a few weeks ago.

The small purple blotches that littered Marvin's body were more apparent now. Before Whizzer had passed, Jason had made fun of what he assumed to be hickeys on Marvin's body, laughing and saying that him and Whizzer were so dirty. Now... they couldn't be...

Purple spots.  _Purple spots_. Whizzer had those all over his body in the last few weeks, like his skin was patterned with polka dots. That couldn't mean...

Jason rolled over, buried his face into his father's chest and cried. He hadn't cried for Whizzer, he didn't think Whizzer would want him to. But Jason didn't care about his tears in that moment. His dad was getting sick. His dad was getting sick. Just like Whizzer, his dad was getting sick.

Jason held onto his father like a lifeline, whispering about all the things they simply had to do and talk about before Marvin died. And he had to die, didn't he? There wasn't a cure.

"Are you alright, Jason?" Marvin mumbled, opening his eyes to see the small boy cuddled up on his stomach.

"Bad dream," he replied, lying through his teeth. "I'm alright."

_I don't think he's alright._

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

After making sure Marvin was definitely back asleep, Jason crept to the house phone and dialled the phone in his mom and step-dad's house.

"Marvin?" his step-father's voice answered.

"It's me," Jason whispered. "Dad's asleep."

"What's wrong, kiddo?" he asked, slipping into psychiatrist mode like flipping a switch. "Is your dad alright?"

Rubbing his eyes, Jason took a deep breath. "He isn't alright. Dad's getting sick. Just like Whizzer. Dad's sick too."

_I know he isn't alright._


	6. spend my life without you // homosexuals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Act 1, Marvin and Whizzer discuss their relationship. Almost.
> 
> word count: 346

The evening had been calm and relaxed, the first evening they hadn't spent between sheets. They had watched TV, they had talked about their home lives, Marvin had bitched about Trina and boasted about Jason. And listened to Whizzer. For the first time, he listened to Whizzer.

They were on the balcony of the shitty motel Whizzer was staying in, leaning on the railing and counting stars, passing a bottle of wine between them. Whizzer dangled it over the railing with a loose grip on the bottle that made Marvin anxious.

"Are you going to leave her?" Whizzer asked.

Marvin started. "Well, that came out of left field..."

"You don't like baseball," he noted with amusement.

"I'll like it if it means you'll talk to me more," he replied honestly.

"Are you going to leave her?" he persisted. "You should leave her, Marvin."

"Why?" he asked, the harshness of his voice surprising both men. "Why should I?"

Whizzer smiled daringly. "You could run away with me. Forget them, Marvin, you could have all of this and more. We wouldn't have to sneak around, make up excuses. We could be together."

"We can't. If anybody else knew... we'd be killed," Marvin said, leaning his back against the railing. "You know that, Whizzer."

"I'd rather die, and be with you, than spend my life without you," Whizzer mumbled, looking out over the buzzing city. It was so quiet, Marvin could barely hear him. He could barely believe that Whizzer had said those words. Whizzer Brown, vulnerable?

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice carefully soft, as if Whizzer was a skittish and frightened animal.

"I said 'I know'," he replied harshly. "I said 'I know'."

For once, he didn't fight. He wasn't looking for a fight, he was looking for more of how Whizzer had sounded just then. "Of course you did."

Whizzer wordlessly extended a hand. "Wine?"

Smiling, Marvin nodded. This was his ground. "Of course."

He drank straight from the bottle and sighed, handing it back to Whizzer.

This was a conversation for another day.


	7. fathers' day cards // homosexuals + mendel + jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason thinks the apostrophe in "father's day" is in the wrong place and makes it known to his teacher.
> 
> word count: 1266

Jason was close to asleep, slumped over his desk with his head propped up on his hand. His teacher was droning on about the activities they would be doing that day and he wasn’t paying attention, until she said one phrase that make him perk up.

“We’re going to be making Father’s Day cards!” she chirruped, writing out ‘Father’s Day Cards!!!’ on the board in her loopy script.

Jason mumbled something about the apostrophe being in the wrong place as he shot up his hand and called out, “What happens if you have more than one dad, Miss?”

“Eww, that’s so gross!” a boy on his table whined. “You can’t have more than one dad!”

Jason scoffed. “I have three! One dad, and two step-dads. And three moms, though two of them aren’t really my moms.”

Miss Mitchell made her way over, crouching down beside Jason’s chair and putting on a simpering smile. Jason wanted to throw up. “Jason, sweetie, you must understand that it’s impossible to have two step-fathers. One woman cannot marry two men, that’s against the law and it’s not normal.”

“That’s not what I mean, Miss Mitchell!” he protested, making frantic gestures. “I can have three fathers, I can!”

“Jason,” she cooed, resting a hand on his arm, “I understand that your parents divorce has put you in a tight spot but it seems you’re allowing your imagination to run away with you and-“

Jason saw red. He was many things, but he was not a liar. He stood up and kicked his teacher in the kneecap, just as Cordelia had taught him. “I can have three fathers, Miss Mitchell! I’m not a liar, I can!”

“Now listen to me, young man!” she snapped, seizing Jason by the upper arm and marching him to the office.

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

As was expected, Jason had gone silent, curling himself up in a tight ball on his seat in the office and jumping when anybody came near him, sobbing into his knees. When the door opened, he jumped, uncurling from his ball and rubbing his eyes until he could make out that the man standing there was Marvin, crouched down on one knee with his arms out for a hug.  Jason rushed into his dad’s arms, allowing his feet to be lifted off the ground so Marvin could carry him to the seats. His dad sat down and Jason crawled onto his lap, crying into his expensive shirt.

“Jason, buddy, can you tell me what’s wrong?” Marvin cooed as Jason sobbed into his shoulder, sniffling and smearing snot all over the smart fabric of his blazer. “You need to calm down so we can have a grown-up discussion about this, okay?”

When he finally pulled back, he wiped his nose on his sleeve and choked out, “Miss Mitchell told me off for saying that I have three dads! She wouldn’t let me finish and she kept telling me that I shouldn’t lie to get attention and I- I- I kicked her!”

With that, Jason burst into tears again, bawling into his hands and his shoulders heaving with sobs. Marvin rubbed his back to soothe him, whispering in kind tones. When Jason had finally calmed down (and exhausted the supply of tissues Marvin kept in his briefcase), Miss Mitchell entered the room.

“Has Jason admitted to you what he’s done, Mr Cohen?” she asked in frosty tones.

Marvin was about to bludgeon her with icy politeness when the door to the office swung open and a young man wearing a designer shirt and designer jeans strolled in, a bag of expensive camera equipment sling over one shoulder.

Miss Mitchell raised an eyebrow. “Ah, you’re Jason’s step-father, I assume.” Whizzer was about to respond when she continued, saying, “Mendel… Weisenbachfeld, is it?

“Whizzer Brown, actually, I don’t think I’m registered as a contact,” he said, raising one eyebrow to perfect his practised judgemental look.

Miss Mitchell made a noise of surprise and left the office again, this time to collect a form for Whizzer to fill in.

Although Marvin was crumpled and messy, his shirt wrinkled and smeared with snot from Jason’s crying, Whizzer lit up upon seeing him, rushing over to pull him into a fierce hug and kiss him chastely on the lips.

“Sorry, J,” Whizzer apologised when they broke apart, moving to crouch down in front of Jason. “What’s up?”

“I kicked Miss Mitchell because she said I can’t have three dads,” he admitted, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. “I’m sorry, Whizzer.”

“You don’t have three da-“ He paused and his eyes widened. “You mean me, Mendel and Marvin?”

Jason nodded tearfully. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh, Jason. Come here. Marv?”

Whizzer and Marvin pulled Jason into a tight hug, both rubbing his back until he camped down again. When Jason’s teacher returned, Jason was cuddled up beside Marvin with Whizzer on his other side, with Whizzer sorting out his shirt.

“I apologise,” Whizzer said, his voice terrifyingly cold. “What are we here for?”

“Well, Jason was announcing to his entire class that he has three fathers. I understand that the divorce between his parents has put some strain on Jason, but it has been nearly a year and Jason is still spreading obtuse rumours to gain a ‘shocking’ reputation.”

Before she could continue her biased spiel, the office door opened again and a man wearing a cardigan and crumpled white shirt stepped in, an apologetic smile on his face. “I’m so sorry, I had to finish a session with a client before I could dash down.”

Miss Mitchell looked at him with shock, and Jason took silent solace in how uncomfortable and embarrassed she looked. “Who are you?”

“Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Jason’s step-dad,” he said brightly, reaching over to shake her hand.

As she sat there in stunned shock, Mendel turned his attention to his son and the other two men, leaning down to give Jason a hug and warmly shaking Whizzer’s hand, asking how he was. Despite their turbulent past, the two men got on quite well, all things considered. After that, he moved on to Marvin, grinning at him and sitting down. Although the two were close, their doctor-patient dynamic was evident in the way that they never had physical contact. “What happened?” he asked quietly, and Marvin whispered back.

“Why can’t he have three fathers?” Marvin asked, his voice cold. “First, you have Mendel, Jason’s step-father, who’s married to Trina, my ex-wife. Second, you have me, Jason’s biological father, and then you have Whizzer, my fiancé and Jason’s step-father. It’s perfectly plausible.” Turning to Jason, his voice softened. “I understand why you kicked her, Jase, I would too, but maybe we can attack people verbally rather than physically?”

Jason nodded. “Okay!” he promised, turning to his teacher. “You suck. You’re mean and homophobic and I don’t like you.”

Whizzer snorted and Marvin grinned. “That’s our boy,” he said fondly.

Mendel looked silently horrified, and Marvin jabbed him in the ribs. “Oi, Mendel, what’s wrong?”

“Trina’s going to have a stroke,” he mumbled quietly, and Jason burst out giggling.

“But Cordelia and Doctor Charlotte will be pleased!” Jason added. “But Mom is gonna be _so_ mad.”

As Jason’s teacher dismissed them to take Jason home and briskly left the room, the three fathers exchanged a horrified look. Despite how headstrong each man was, they all feared the wrath of a lecture from Trina.

Jason said what all three of them were thinking. “You guys are so screwed!” he said happily, bouncing up to collect his bag from his peg. “I’ll be back in a minute.”


	8. see the stars // homosexuals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a weird prompt from a friend
> 
> person A in a mental hospital  
> person B helps out

Marvin was having an interesting day.

He was probably the most mentally stable person on his ward after several months of treatment, yet people seemed to be coming and going at an alarming rate.

His favourite occupation was guessing what the new people were coming in for. A little girl was escorted onto the ward, her face looking like a thundercloud.

_ Oh no, I wonder what she has that she has to be in a mental hospital for,  _ Marvin wondered, his heart breaking for her.

“I just wanna smoke my fucking coke, is that took much to ask?!” she screamed at nothing.

_ Oh alright, _ Marvin thought, turning his attention back to his book. He would write, but they had taken his pencils. Something about them being too dangerous.

 

The next guy to walk in came straight over to him and held out a hand. “Hi, I’m a criminal. I was deported from Peru because I stole shit.”

Marvin stayed silent, squinting up at him.

The guy stared back.

“Good conversation starter,” Marvin said dryly. “Now never use it again.”

“Can I steal your apple?” he asked.

Marvin raised his eyebrows and snatched it from his lunch tray, taking a bite out of it. “What? No!”

“Are you causing trouble again?” a lighthearted voice said.

Marvin glanced up to see a young man striding into the room, wearing a blue shirt unbuttoned at the top, and black trousers.

“No!” he said hurriedly, and the boy laughed.

“Very well,” he said, walking over to Marvin and sitting on the bed. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Marvin,” he replied. “Who are you?”

“Whizzer Brown at your service. My family wants me to help out here,” he said, removing his expensive loafers and setting them down so he could pull his legs onto the bed. “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” he said, shrugging. “I’m the most mentally stable person on this ward, probably apart from Connor. He’s at the end bed. I get out soon, don’t know what I’ll do then.”

“No family?” Whizzer asked pleasantly, sorting out his cuffs.

“My mom is dead, my brother’s dead, and my dad’s in prison for thirty years,” Marvin deadpanned. “I might put in a couple college applications, try and get back into high school.”

“What would you like to study at college?” he asked, seemingly uncomfortable.

“Math,” he said, reciting what he had been told by his father.

Whizzer barked a laugh. “No, what do you want to  _ actually _ study? I can tell you’ve been told that, man.”

“Astronomy,” he said honestly. “I love stars, and physics, and the math behind it all. But I haven’t seen the fucking stars in ages.”

Whizzer frowned. “That  _ fucking sucks _ . I’d like to take photography.”

Marvin sat forward eagerly. “Really? What photos do you take?”

The younger boy produced a phone. “I went on a trip last week with my family, I took some pretty decent ones and transferred them to my phone. Do you like them?”

Can I take it?” he asked, reaching out for the phone.

Whizzer nodded, pushing it into his hands. Marvin’s eyes widened. They were fascinating.

“I love them,” Marvin said honestly. “You’re amazing at that.”

“Thanks!” he said with a chipper voice. “I hope you can see the stars soon, Marvin.”

_ You can’t see the stars. _

“I can see the stars!” Marvin argued aloud, and nobody in the room seemed too shocked about it. Whizzer looked surprised, but then seemed to realise  _ Ah, I’m in a mental hospital _ and relax.

_ Marvin, listen to me. You’re not good enough for college, not good enough for anyone. _

“Yes, I am!” he yelled. “I am good enough!”

“Marvin,” said Whizzer. “I know you are. Everyone knows that you are. You don’t need to try and convince someone of that when they don’t matter anymore.”

Marvin held his breath and ignored the voice. It still chattered away inside his head, but Marvin muttered, “Shut up, Dad,” and turned back to Whizzer. “Thank you.”

“No problem, Marvin. There’s a meteor shower tonight, biggest one in twenty years.”

Marcin groaners and fell back on the bed. “And I’m missing it.”

“There always others,” Marvin.”

 

Later than night, when Whizzer has long since left, a nurse slipped into the ward. “Marvin?”

“Yes?” he asked.

“Put on your shoes, kid,” she said.

Confused, Marvin complied, slipping on his shoes and following her out of the ward, through the halls… outside.  _ Outside. _

Marcin was paralysed with awe, staring up at the sky. As he stood there and gawked, he felt someone nudge his arm. “Hey,” Whizzer Brown whispered.

Marvin grinned. “Hello.”

“Guess who got you outside?”

“Thank you.”

Whizzer flashed a smile. “You get to see the stars, Marvin.”

 


	9. fuck you in flowers // jason + everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU
> 
> A redheaded florist gets to know a young brunette boy and his family through the interesting flower meanings he asks for on his regular visits to the shop.
> 
> Each of Jason’s visits corresponds to a song from Falsettos.
> 
> ‘Four Jews’ to ‘Thrill Of First Love'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me ideas I am completely stuck.

**Four Jews In A Room Bitching**

Connor McKinley was buried up to his neck in flowers and couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was standing on a stepladder to arrange a display of flowers on the wall, nearly invisible save for his hands popping out of the mess of petals every now and then to place another flower.

A small tug on his white shirt made him start and turn his attention to a customer clearly trying to get his attention. He glanced about, unable to see anybody. From somewhere by his feet, a voice said, “Excuse me, mister!”

He peered down to see a young boy with a mop of brown head bobbing up and down, clutching a notepad and a twenty dollar bill. “Hello, young man,” he said, smiling indulgently as he climbed down from the step ladder and sat down on the top step. “What are you looking for?”

“How do I say ‘fuck you’ in flower?”

Connor choked on his response as the vulgar words spilt from the small boy’s mouth, although his expression remained innocent. “Are you okay, mister?”

“How old are you?” he spluttered, before righting himself and smoothing out his shirt.

“I’m ten,” the boy said, puffing out his chest proudly, allowing Connor to take note of the pad of paper in his hands. “I have some specific flowers I would like.”

Gingerly, Connor took the notepad and read aloud the neatly bullet-pointed list. “You want geraniums for stupidity, foxglove for insincerity, meadowsweet for uselessness, yellow carnations for disappointment, and orange lilies for hatred. You must really hate this person!”

“It’s for my dad,” he deadpanned. “I’m Jason Cohen, by the way.”

Connor reached over the counter and shook the boy’s hand. “Connor McKinley. I’ll go and arrange your bouquet for you, Jason.”

Jason nodded once, sharply. “Okay! Can I watch?"

Bemused by the little boy, Connor allowed the boy to follow him around the shop as he gathered the right flowers. Jason was all too eager to listen to Connor’s ramblings about the language of flowers, and Connor chuckled as he listened to Jason rave about his newest chess set. This boy was definitely his best customer yet.

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

**Tight-Knit Family**

“Hello!”

Connor whirled around from where he was assembling a bouquet for a teenage boy who had murder in his eyes and suspicious red smudges on his fingers. Wanting to be done and dusted with the scary high-schooler, he quickly rang up the red roses on the register and sent him on his way.

“Hello, Jason! What would it be today?” he asked cheerfully. “Want to say ‘fuck you’ again?”

Jason giggled. “Kinda. I want to say ‘this family sucks’.

“More orange lilies, perhaps?” he queried.

“I’ve got a list here,” Jason said, handing over his pad once again.

Reading down the list, Connor said, “Orange lilies for hatred, Amaranthus for heartlessness, Yellow Balsam for impatience, Barberry for sourness of temper and Basil for hatred? Wow, your family really must suck.”

Jason shrugged. “They’re all nice individually, I guess. But they don’t get along if you put them in the same room.”

“My family are like that too,” Connor confessed as he moved to find all the flowers Jason wanted. “You and I seem to be quite alike!”

“Are you Jewish too?” Jason asked curiously.

The florist shook his head as he picked up a handful of orange lilies. “Not quite. You believe that the bible has only one part, right?”

Jason nodded, and Connor’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “I’m one of those people that believes in three parts of the bible.”

Unable to hide his shock, Jason said, “You’re one of those annoying people that goes door-to-door going ‘Hello, my name is Elder Whatever and I want to share Jesus Christ with you’?”

Connor burst out laughing. “First of all, it’s ‘Hello, my name is Elder McKinley and I would like to share with you this book of Jesus Christ’. Second of all, no, I’m not. Not until I go on my mission, then I’ll be doing that door-to-door.”

“I’ve heard of missions, where would you want to go?” he asked curiously. “I would go to the middle of nowhere and sleep.”

Snorting, Connor said, “I’d go to Paris.”

“Good choice,” Jason said.

As Connor bound the flowers with paper and handed them to Jason, Jason held out ten dollars. He shook his head. “It’s on the house. Tell me now your dad reacts when he gets these, alright? Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Jason said as he left the shop, arms full of flowers.

 

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

**Love Is Blind**

Three weeks later, a brunette whirlwind of fury thundered into the shop, clutching ten dollars in one hand and his notepad in the other. “I’m going to go mad!” he shouted, his forehead a thundercloud of fury as he pushed the notepad towards Connor.

“Bittersweet for truth, blackthorn for difficulty, althaea frutex for consumed by love, frog ophrys for disgust, and fumitory for hatred,” he read aloud, a chuckle in his voice. “Wow, this’ll be one purple bouquet of hatred! I’m guessing that you hate love?”

Jason nodded miserably. “I hate it so much.”

Softening, Connor turned around with an althaea frutex in his hands. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My parents got… aren’t happy anymore. Mom and Dad decided they don’t like each other anymore. My daddy is in love with this man called Whizzer who is very nice and cool and lets me take photos with his camera. And Mom got sad about it and went to see Dad’s therapist and now she’s… in… love… with… the… stupid… psychiatrist!” Jason burst out, kicking a plastic pot.

“Your life should be a musical!” Connor said, trying to cheer Jason up as he thought _turn it off_.

“It should!” he grumbled, folding his arms over his chest miserably. “What about you? How are you doing?”

“I’m okay!” he replied. “I’m reading a book about the ways humans will progress in the future, it’s very interesting.”

Jason nodded. “Can you tell me about it?”

It was only when a woman in a floral skirt burst into the shop and dragged Jason out by the ear did Connor realise how long they had been talking for. “Sorry!” he called out as Jason rushed down the street.

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

**The Thrill Of First Love**

The next time the boy entered the shop, he looked downright exhausted. “Sleep badly, Jason?” Connor enquired pleasantly.

Jason walked over to the counter and slammed his head down on it. “I’m so tired!” he grumbled. “I hate my dad!”

“I’m well aware of that, Jason,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “What’s wrong?”

Still grumbling incoherently, Jason pushed his pad across the tabletop. The writing was wonky and the paper was crumpled, as if Jason had rested his head on it. “I want these flowers, please. My dad and his boyfriend have sex too loud.”

“Yellow acacia for secret love, birdsfoot trefoil for revenge, almond for indiscretion, yellow rose for infidelity, and orange lilies for hatred.” He raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you do a lot of research for this, kid!”

Jason didn’t respond, and he looked down to see the boy breathing softly, head pillowed on his arms, half-asleep and mumbling nonsense. Chuckling, Connor led the tired boy around the counter and into the backroom, letting him fall onto the only sofa and curl up into a ball.

Sighing to himself, Connor went about finding the flowers he had asked for, admiring how carefully the boy had picked out the colour scheme this time. It was warm yellow, with white almond flowers and orange lilies interspersed within. As yellow roses were Connor’s favourite flower, he was little offended that they were being used for such a hate-filled bouquet, but it had a note of amusement at the same time. One he had gathered and trimmed all the flowers, he arranged them and wrapped them in paper, writing on the attached tag, _please be quieter with your nighttime activities because I need sleep_. Satisfied with his project, he went to wake up the small boy.

Jason was already sitting up, curled up against the arm of the sofa. It seemed that the ten-year-old had used process of elimination to work out Connor’s four-digit phone password and downloaded a chess app, as he was diligently playing an online game against somebody from Germany.

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me, Jason, but what are you doing?”

“Playing chess,” the boy said absently. “I’ve won ten games. You took ages.”

“It was an beautiful choice of flowers, I spent a long time assembling them,” Connor said, before remembering what he wanted to say. “No, I’m getting distracted. How did you get onto my phone?”

He shrugged. “I angled your phone to the light and there’s lots of fingerprints over three of the numbers on the screen: nine, one, and eight. I tried a few combinations and then I remembered it’s probably your birth year. You said that you’re nineteen so that means it’s 1998.”

“Nice to meet you, Sherlock,” Connor said, chuckling. “You’re very intelligent, Jason.”

“Thank you,” he said, shrugging and handing Connor twenty dollars. “Here’s the money.”

Chuckling, Connor ruffled the small boy’s hair. “You’re strange, Jason, but a good kind. Do your parents not wonder where all the money comes from?”

Jason shook his head. “My mom never notices and my dad gives me lots of pocket money. Do you get pocket money, Connor?”

He shrugged. “Not much. I’m driving them crazy enough by running this flower shop instead of getting another job. They want to stop me doing this.”

Gasping, Jason puffed out his cheeks and let his breath go with a pop. “No! You’re good at this, you listen to me and you make me lovely flowers.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I plan on staying here for a lot longer. I think your parents might be wondering where you are.”

Jason smiled. “They probably are. Thank you for the flowers, Connor!”

Chuckling as the boy ran down the down the street with a comically large bunch of colourful flowers, Connor hoped that Jason’s life would quiet down soon. The poor kid seemed to have an intense life when all he wanted to do was play chess.


End file.
